


Breakfast at Tiffany's

by SamadiW, SpuffyCarrie



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adult Content, Adult Draco Malfoy, Adult Hermione Granger, Community: Dramione FanFiction Forum, Draco Malfoy in the Muggle World, Drama & Romance, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Friends With Benefits, Good Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger & Draco Malfoy Friendship, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy Fluff, Jealousy, Muggle Life, Muggle London, Mutual Pining, Past Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Post-Hogwarts, Redeemed Draco Malfoy, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:55:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27133495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SamadiW/pseuds/SamadiW, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpuffyCarrie/pseuds/SpuffyCarrie
Summary: My first ever one shot!Inspired by the iconic movie "Breakfast at Tiffany's" and loosely based on its plot.It still is such a beautiful movie, I wanted to insert our favourite duo and write a romantic one-shot.Done in collaboration with the awesome and talented, Carrie (SpuffyCarrie).Thank you so much, hun! You are an absolute delight.Hope everyone likes the fluff and humour.Please read and review.I absolutely love reading reviews because it helps to motivate my writing while other reviews help me to become a better writer.Disclaimer: These beautiful characters belong to the talented J.K. Rowling. I have only borrowed them! 😊HAPPY READING! 🥰
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Pansy Parkinson, Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Comments: 18
Kudos: 56





	Breakfast at Tiffany's

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SpuffyCarrie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpuffyCarrie/gifts).



> My first ever one shot! 
> 
> Inspired by the iconic movie "Breakfast at Tiffany's" and loosely based on its plot.
> 
> It still is such a beautiful movie, I wanted to insert our favourite duo and write a romantic one-shot.
> 
> Done in collaboration with the awesome and talented, Carrie (SpuffyCarrie).
> 
> Thank you so much, hun! You are an absolute delight.
> 
> Hope everyone likes the fluff and humour.
> 
> Please read and review.
> 
> I absolutely love reading reviews because it helps to motivate my writing while other reviews help me to become a better writer.
> 
> Disclaimer: These beautiful characters belong to the talented J.K. Rowling. I have only borrowed them! 😊
> 
> HAPPY READING! 🥰

The morning air was anything but pleasant. The wind blared around each corner causing passersby to hold onto their hats and coats as if their life depended on it.

A black-painted London cabbie pulled up in front of Tiffany & Co.

Hermione Granger smoothed her elegant knee-length flared blue dress, braved the wind, and appeared from inside the cab, tightly clutching a box of croissants to her chest.

Fascinated by the glittering jewels, she looked inside and dreamed about wearing the beautiful diamond brooch staring at her in the face.

Letting out a sigh, she could never afford such a trinket and so, Hermione made her way up to her flat.

A streak of platinum blonde caught her eye. She knew of only one man in the wizarding world with such unique blonde hair. This was not the first time she spotted those silky strands of blond and she had been meaning to ask the Landlord about the new tenant.

She almost stepped out of the lift to follow the elusive blonde when the lift doors closed, and she was taken to her desired floor.

Frustrated, she stared at the messy flat and grumbled, blaming her date from the previous night. Terry Boot was a definite slob, and his methods of lovemaking were well below par.

Frowning at her awful lack of judgement, Hermione whipped out her wand and moved it effortlessly through the air. Broken bits of ornaments and sullied sheets returned to their former, pristine glory.

With a hand on her hip, Hermione smiled at the now spotlessly clean room.

Dumping the box of pastries on the kitchen counter, she shook off her shoes and strode towards the ensuite. She ran a full bath and added some bath salts, using her hand to lather the soap she blew the bubbles that formed on her hand.

Stripping, she dipped a long leg into the luxurious bath and descended into its warmth.

“Ah, this is the life.” she proclaimed to no one in particular.

After the war, actress, Hermione Granger, had joined a small production of Peter Pan and played the part of Wendy. It had been purely for kicks and to broaden her portfolio in the finer arts.

To everyone’s surprise, she had received rave reviews. Before she knew it, stardom came knocking at her door and she was on her way to becoming an actress.

She had gathered a few minor features under her belt and was reading for a leading role in an upcoming Martin Scorsese film. It was a role she dreamed of getting because it would elevate her career to new heights and make her a household name.

Her friends remained close, though her ex-husband, Ron Weasley, stayed well out of her way except when he appeared in the odd story in the Daily Prophet or features of their previous years at Hogwarts.

A loud buzzing of the doorbell snapped her out of the vivid daydream.

Cursing the gods and dripping with water, Hermione slipped on a fluffy robe and went to open the door. Intent on giving the person on the other side a proper tongue lashing, she threw open the door confidently.

“Hello Granger,” her visitors pale grey eyes roved over her body as if she wore nothing.

Conscious of his roaming orbs, Hermione secured her robe firmly and crossed her arms over her chest.

“Malfoy, I knew it was you I kept seeing.”

“Dreaming about me were you, Granger? I know I’m irresistible.”

“You wish! Now, what the heck do you want?”

“I’ve lost my keys and Chan is nowhere to be found.”

Hermione raised an eyebrow that said, “And how the blooming heck is that my problem?”

“Look I don’t know anyone else in this Muggle hell hole, so can I crash at yours till Chan surfaces?”

She knew she would live to regret it but she rolled her eyes and threw the door wide enough for him to enter.

Draco strode past her and examined the flat, “Nice. You seem to be doing well.”

Curiosity got the better of her, “Do tell, Malfoy, why the hell are you living here?”

He mused, “Well, sweetheart, Malfoy Manor and all our assets have been frozen until such time we are cleared of all charges.”

Hermione widened her eyes, “Blimey, that can’t be fun, what do you do for a living?”

Draco smirked, “I am a struggling writer.”

She quipped, “How fortunate for you.”

Hermione tiptoed barefoot into the kitchen and called out, “Would you like a cup of tea or coffee?”

Draco picked up a framed photograph in which Hermione smiled brightly.

He turned towards her voice and replied, “Tea, please.”

She pushed a mug towards him, and he frowned, sprawled across the mug in bold letters were the words, “Daddy’s Princess.”

He sarcastically bit out, “Very funny Granger.”

She snorted into her mug, “Rather fitting, don’t you agree?”

They exchanged a few more awkward questions and Hermione could not help herself from eyeing the delicious blonde in front her. Tight jeans hung low and hugged his hips. A white t-shirt moulded to his impressive upper physique, rippling over his glorious muscles.

Her mouth went dry, causing her to swallow the scalding concoction and cry out in pain.

Draco laughed without an ounce of sympathy and took in the beautiful woman before him. This was certainly no longer the boring bookworm from Hogwarts. This was an older, sophisticated, confident and utterly sexy woman. He wondered what she would look like naked and screaming out his name.

“Oi, Malfoy,” her sweet voice interrupted his sinful thoughts.

He regained focus to find an old man staring at him, the Chinese gentleman held a knowing look on his face along with an amused grin, “Mr Malfoy, I received your message.”

The Landlord dangled a set of keys in front of his face, “I have the spare key here, shall we?”

Embarrassed and feeling rather stupid, Draco carefully placed the mug on the kitchen counter and walked towards the door. He glanced over his shoulder and called out, “Thank you for your hospitality, Granger, I guess I’ll see you around.”

“Not if I can help it, you cheeky git,” Hermione shot back with a laugh.

She closed the door pointedly and leaned against it breathing hard. If there was one thing she did not welcome, it was memories of Hogwarts, especially of him at Hogwarts.

Shamelessly stuffing her face with a flaky chocolate croissant, she wandered onto the balcony and looked over the bustling London traffic. The noise somehow soothed her.

After replying to a few urgent emails and calls, Hermione pulled on a black short dress, grabbed her black Gucci bag and stepped into the hall.

Immediately, she wished she hadn’t, as locked in a fiery embrace and snogging each other's faces off, were Pansy Parkinson and Draco Malfoy.

Draco saw her staring at them over Pansy’s shoulder and broke free of the embrace.

“Move along Granger, there is nothing to ogle here,” he said, amused by her flabbergasted expression.

Pansy turned on her heel, “Well, well, if it isn’t the Gryffindor swot.”

Hermione rolled her eyes, “Good to know you haven’t changed you pug-like bitch.”

Draco doubled over with laughter and Pansy glared at her.

“How dare—” Pansy began.

Hermione interrupted her before she launched full throttle into her tirade and curtsied mockingly, “And that’s my cue to leave. Thanks for the show, I bid you snakes a heartfelt goodnight.”

* * *

Despite the repulsion she felt towards Terry, Hermione had decided to give him another chance, and here they were, seated in the VIP section of one of London’s best fine dining restaurants.

“You look ravishing, love,” Terry gushed and, in his hurry to sip his wine, he split it all over the front of his shirt.

Hermione grimaced, feeling embarrassed as the other diners gave them both haughty looks, “Err, Thank you, um, and you look, dashing.”

Terry ran his own publishing empire and despite his lack of finesse, the man was doing very well career-wise.

Dinner ran late and after their second shared bottle of red wine, Hermione boldly declared, “I need to get home, Terry, I have a rather early audition tomorrow.” There was no audition, but she wanted to get away from his suffocating company.

Terry nodded, winking as he signalled for the bill.

They arrived outside the door to her flat, she glanced down the hall and, for Circe’s sake, caught Draco kissing yet another woman, this time with long hair. She recognized her as the recently divorced woman from downstairs. The blonde wizard was an incorrigible slut.

Hermione gasped in shock when the woman stroked his face and pressed money into the palm of his hand. Dear Merlin, was Draco pimping himself out for a few extra quid?

She wondered what he was charging before shaking her head, disgusted by the thought.

Hermione watched him raise his head and regard her with curious interest, then his eyes hardened as Terry came lumbering behind her.

Fetching her key, she turned to face the determined ex-Ravenclaw, before deliberately faking a yawn, “Thank you for a lovely evening.”

She backed off almost stumbling through the entrance to her flat, but her escape wasn’t quick enough as Terry caught her arm and pinned her against the wall next to the door.

The tenacious wizard leaned forward and breathed, “How about a good night kiss then, love?”

Hermione yipped, and balled her trapped hands into fists as she tried to push him off, but this only spurred Terry on. He grinned sloppily and bent his head to claim her lips.

“I said already, not tonight, I have an early call,” Hermione enunciated every word.

Before he could go any further, a pale arm shot out of nowhere, grabbed the stunned man by the collar and flung him half away across the corridor.

A deadly voice drawled, “I believe the lady said no, Boot.”

Terry struggled to get to his feet and once he did, he clumsily swung punches at Draco’s head, each missing its mark.

Amused, Draco sidestepped the drunk mans pathetic attempts and growled, “Get the hell out of here before I do something we’ll both regret.”

Fixing Hermione with a look of loathing, Terry gathered his robes and marched out of sight.

Draco bent over and picked Hermione’s fallen handbag and pushed it into her trembling hands, tenderly brushing the strands of hair off her face, he stared into her frightened orbs, “Shit, are you alright?”

She clutched onto the bag like her life depended on it and nodded tearfully.

Draco opened the door, took her gently by the hand and led her shocked self-inside the dark flat.

Fumbling in the dark, he crashed into a piece of furniture and cursed aloud. A second later, he heard a loud clap and the flat was flooded with light.

She crumpled onto the white sofa and looked at the blonde man walking around her home like he owned the place.

He opened the fridge and let out a triumphant cry, “Yes! You do keep alcohol, what a relief.” Twisting the cap off, Draco pushed it into her hands and demanded, “Drink it, Granger, I think you need it after the night you’ve had.”

She did as he instructed, but went too far. Her throat constricted in anxiety and she began to cough and splutter. 

Draco took the bottle out of her grasp, “Slowly woman.”

He finished the remaining contents and tossed the bottle in the garbage.

When she did not make a sound, he eyed her oddly and turned to leave.

“Please don’t go,” Hermione cried desperately.

Draco turned around and let out an exasperated sigh, “Look Granger, the prick won’t be back, just bloody keep your wand at the ready and you’ll be fine.”

Hermione scowled, “It is in my bag, you—you—” She struggled to find the word.

Draco closed the distance between them and grasped her arms, “I, what?” Bloody hell, she had the most striking chocolate brown eyes.

Without much thought to the situation he had found her in, Draco kissed Hermione.

He expected to be told no, smacked, pushed back, assaulted, anything, but what she did next knocked him clean of his socks.

She pushed him down on the sofa and straddled him.

Neither spoke after that, they let their tongues, fingers and other body parts speak for them.

* * *

Draco woke to an empty bed the next morning, stark naked, with mussed hair and a content smile on his lips.

What he had certainly unexpected was that the Gryffindor whom he’d assumed to be a prude had proved herself to be quite the bloody fantastic shag.

He pulled on his discarded boxers and t-shirt to go in search of Hermione, he found her with her hair piled on top of her head as she fried sausages and few strips of bacon.

“Good morning.” He rasped.

Disturbed from her thoughts, she nearly dropped the pan, “Oh, good morning.”

Hermione dished out the food and pushed a plate towards him.

He forked a sausage and smiled, “Thank you. I’ve got a bloody cracker of a day, I’ll get out of your hair soon.”

Disappointed, Hermione swallowed and mumbled, “Okay, um, Sure.”

* * *

Thus, began their friendship with benefits; a mutual understanding of sorts. They used each other’s bodies for pleasure without the constant pressure of a relationship.

Months passed and they grew close, figuring they had more in common than not, they spent a considerable amount of time in each other’s flats.

Unable to satisfy the growing need for him, she watched him bend over the laptop, editing his newest novel.

He massaged his neck and adjusted his glasses.

She took it as a cue to help him destress. Coming up from behind, she placed her small hands on his shoulders and began to massage and relax his knotted muscles.

He placed his hand over hers and squeezed, “Mmm— that feels divine, Granger.”

Her hand moved down his chest and cupped his bulge over the flimsy material of his boxers.

Grabbing her arm, he pulled her down onto his lap and crushed his lips with hers.

Hermione surrendered to the pulsating need he evoked between her thighs.

Draco attended her movie premiers and became her confidant and, in turn, she poured hours over his manuscripts and gushed over how talented he was.

After one night of lovemaking, Draco stroked Hermione’s naked back and said, “I have a date with Pansy tomorrow night.”

An unexpected stab of jealously pierced her heart but she acted aloof, “Oh, that sounds like fun.”

He cleared his throat, “Are you sure it’s okay?”

Naked, Hermione hopped out of bed and stretched, “Of course, why wouldn’t it be?” She reminded him harshly, “You are free to date whoever you fancy, we never said we were exclusive, Malfoy.”

Draco narrowed his eyes, got to his feet and hurriedly proceeded to pull on his clothes, “Right. If that’s how you feel, then that’s— yeah, that’s fine.”

Hermione smiled, “That is how I feel, ”she homed in for the kill, “besides Ron is back in town and he wants to catch up.”

Draco widened his eyes and spat, “Weasley? As in your ex-husband?”

Hermione laughed, “Hardly an ex-husband, we were children. The marriage was annulled in less than a month.”

Unable to mask his contempt, Draco hissed, “What the bloody hell does he want?”

She raised an eyebrow, “That’s none of your business.”

Aggressively he tugged at his t-shirt and shot back, “Clearly.”

Before she could get another word out, he stormed out of the room and the loud bang of the front door indicated he had left.

Upset, she piled a bowl high with chocolate ice cream and squeezed a hefty portion of whipped cream over the top.

“Stupid, sexy, bloody Malfoy!” She stabbed at the dessert venomously.

* * *

Lunch with Ron was strained, he followed her every movement like a love-struck teenager, and it was beginning to annoy her.

Ginny swapped a look with Harry and they both tried hard not to laugh.

Depressed, Hermione downed glass after glass of Pinot Noir and, by the time dinner was over, she was positively lightheaded.

Ron escorted Hermione back to her flat and they arrived in time to see Pansy and Draco enter the building.

Draco stiffened at the sight of Ron’s hand cradling Hermione’s hip.

“Malfoy?” Hermione questioned when he tried to grab hold of Pansy and squeeze past unnoticed. So it was like that, was it? He was going to ignore her like a child. She felt tears bubble to the surface at the way he protectively grasped Pansy’s hand, just like he once did to her’s.

Draco turned at the sound of her voice and glared.

Ron looked uncomfortable, as did Pansy.

They both exchanged a look and smiled awkwardly.

“What do you want, Granger?” Draco hissed.

She put her arm around his shoulder and pulled him close, “Um, so, how was your date? Fun?”

He stared into her face, “You’re drunk, Hermione.”

Hermione pushed him away, took Ron’s hand, yanked him to her and licked his neck.

She whispered into the shell of his ear, “Come on big boy, let’s have some fun for old time’s sake.”

Draco felt his breathing quicken and hit an all-time high. What the bloody hell was she playing at? And why the heck did he want to beat Weasley into ground dust?

They went their separate ways, Malfoy seething as he watched Weasley tighten his arm around Hermione and whisper into her ear.

When she giggled, Draco opened the door to his flat and tugged Pansy inside.

At once Pansy pounced on him and kissed him heatedly, but his mind was not in it, his mind was elsewhere. The image of a beautiful brown-haired woman occupied his thoughts for weeks on end and realisation hit him like a ton of bricks. He was falling for the Gryffindor swot.

Oh, Merlin, she had him by the balls.

Draco gently pushed Pansy off him, and she rolled off the sofa onto the floor.

He quickly picked her up and letting go, he cradled his head, “I’m sorry Pans, but I can’t do this anymore.”

Pansy let out an almost bitter laugh, “You fancy Hermione, right?”

He nodded miserably.

“You’re so bloody obvious, Draco,” she grabbed hold of his cheeks and placed a last chaste kiss to his lips, “but I wish you all the best, babe.”

With not having money and barely scraping by, having Pansy as a girlfriend had its perks. That was what he was losing, he guessed as he grasped at the threads of his former life. He knew it was wrong to use her that way, so offered her a weak smile and watched her walk away.

Fixing himself a drink, he tossed it back and fought the urge to break down Hermione’s front door and chuck Weasley out on his arse.

They needed to talk and unfortunately, it would have to wait till morning, he was no hero in this scenario and she no damsel who needed rescuing. She’d made her choice, though he was damned if he’d allow her to make the wrong one for long.

* * *

The morning post arrived, and Draco shooed his irritating owl away.

Undeterred, the stubborn bird kept pecking at his hand.

He sat up in annoyance, glared at the owl and pulled at the letter in its mouth. His eyes widened and he saw how it was addressed and tore it open in a hurry. A sense of exhilaration descended upon him and he shot out of bed to do a small dance.

Grabbing the letter, he flew out of his door and rushed down the corridor, thumping relentlessly on Hermione’s door with a closed fist, “Open the door, Granger!”

Hermione awoke to the sound of someone banging down on her door, barely registering through her throbbing headache.

She remembered very little of the previous night as she sat up and clutched the sheet to her bare body,

Turning to her side, she shrieked.

Dazed and confused, Ron woke up with a start, rolled off the bed and fell to the floor.

“Hermione, darling, it's me!” He pleaded desperately, cradling his head which he’d cracked on the bedside table.

She twisted the sheet around her naked body and angrily got off the bed, “What the bloody hell are you doing in my bed?”

Ron looked confused, “You invited me back last night, don’t you remember?”

“Are you shrink-wrapped? Of course, I don’t remember, I was drunk!” She defended hotly.

The banging on the door increased in volume and urgency.

Ignoring the red-faced man searching for his clothes, she strode towards the door, wrapping the sheet around her toga style and taking a deep breath, she threw the door open about to give whoever was on the other side a piece of her mind.

Draco grabbed her around the waist and pulled her into a bone-crushing hug, “They are going to publish my book!”

Her arms went around him, loosening the sheet, “Oh, Draco, that’s wonderful news! I am so happy for you.”

Ron entered the living space and at once Draco let go and stared at the semi-naked man in the background.

“Found it!” Ron declared, excitedly holding up a shoe.

Draco fixed Hermione with a pained look, who in turn shot Ron a disgruntled look.

Ron nodded at him in greeting and Hermione struggled to keep the sheet in place.

“I’m sorry, I interrupted something, I’ll just—,” Draco muttered, pushed the letter into Hermione’s hands and fled the flat.

She wanted to chase after him but in her current predicament that was rather impossible. Instead, she shut the door and gestured for Ron to sit down. As she plopped down next to him, he scooted closer.

She took his hand in hers and smiled, “You will always be special to me Ron, but I have no intention of starting a relationship with you, last night was—well, it was a mistake.”

Ron hung his head miserably but without fuss, he nodded and stroked her hair affectionately, “I will always love you, Hermione, remember that.”

She cupped his face and smiled tenderly, “I’ll always be your friend.”

* * *

It would be years before Hermione saw Ron again, he moved to Germany for a stint to expand his business.

Once he left, Hermione came to the horrible and surprising realization that she was in love with Draco Malfoy and she had fucked everything up between them.

Weeks passed, and whenever she stopped by his flat, he was never in. She took to almost camping outside, hoping to catch him on his way home but he evaded her with surprising purpose. She slipped notes under his door, called him around the clock and left him text messages, all to no avail.

The day she received the call back from the Scorsese film and jumped up and down in delight. The Daily Prophet ran a full spread article about the movie which featured her on the front page. It was a bittersweet victory as she couldn’t share it with the one person she wanted to, the man she knew would be excited for her.

Later that day she found a large basket of chocolate muffins left on the doorstep, along with a note,

_“Shine like the star you are.”_

She cried hot tears while clutching the note between her fingers, bawling like a newborn baby and wishing he would just put aside his pride and come to her.

Out of desperation, she even resorted to speaking with their Landlord.

“Oh, Miss Granger, you are looking well, though I must say, Mr Malfoy’s looking most miserable these days.”

Hermione frowned, “Do you know where he has been?”

The Landlord smiled, “He’s been using the back entrance to come and go. He told me he is flying to New York for three months today.”

“What?” She cried and shot to her feet. Grabbing the small man, she shook him, “What do you mean he’s leaving? What time?”

Mr Chan fished out a small piece of paper and pushed it into her determined hands.

Grabbing it and feeling a sense of renewed purpose, Hermione dashed out of the building and tried to hail a cab, waving her hand wildly. Minutes went by and she failed to attract a cabbie’s attention, so taking an extreme measure, she stepped onto the street and whistled loudly.

An elderly taxi driver stopped, and she hurriedly got in.

“The airport and step on it, the love of my life is about to leave!” She begged desperately.

“Right you are, love.” The driver put his foot down and they squealed away.

They ducked and weaved through traffic, cursing at other drivers. In next to no time they arrived at the departure terminal.

She hurriedly passed the money at the driver and got out.

Scanning the crowd, she spotted a tuft of platinum blonde and gathering the hem of her dress, Hermione sprinted in his direction not caring how ridiculous she looked or how much of a cliché their situation was.

Finally, catching up with his long-legged strides, she turned him around and leaned against him to catch her breath.

“Granger, what the bloody hell are you doing here?” He gave her an incredulous look.

“Were—you—going to—leave—without telling me?” She muttered stiltedly and breathless.

Draco laughed, “What’s all the fuss about? I’m coming back in a week.”

Hermione frowned, that conniving sod. The landlord had played her and rightly so.

He cupped her face and smiled devilishly, “Why, pray tell, are you running after me across a Muggle airport?”

She grabbed his head and kissed him heatedly, “Because, you arrogant bastard, I’m in love with you.”

Draco lifted her off the ground and swung her much to the amusement of the people around them, “Took you long enough to realize it.”

He cocked his head to the side, “So, what about Weasley?”

The name brought back unpleasant memories of a less than satisfactory night wasted away from her true love.

She smiled and waved her hand casually, “Gone with the wind.”

He hugged her tightly, “I love you, Hermione. Why don’t we buy you a ticket so you can come with me?”

Hermione smiled sheepishly and showed him her phone. A full and concise itinerary appeared across the screen and they both laughed, pausing to rest their foreheads together.

“I see you have our whole life planned out for us? So what’s next?”

She hit delete on the itinerary and grinned, "Just wanna go travelling through the pastures of the sky.”

“That, my darling, can be arranged,” he beamed back.

Hand in hand, they walked inside the airport and on to whatever their future might bring.

Perhaps if Hermione was very lucky, that future might involve a rather large diamond ring from Tiffany’s.


End file.
